


Every Damn Day

by Onlymostydead



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 17:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5879515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onlymostydead/pseuds/Onlymostydead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing changes. Ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Every Damn Day

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: I'm going through this and fixing the shit out of it. Be prepared.

"Stop being so damn cheerful, Simmons!"  
The same words.  
The same reaction to 'Good Morning, Sir.'  
It's always the same.  
So why does it still hurt then?  
He could never say it hurts, no.  
That would break the cycle.  
"Yes sir."  
Every damned morning.

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair.  
Good enough.  
Put on your armour.  
Don't wince when it rubs against the fresh cuts.  
They're your fault.  
The same every morning.  
Hell, he could change it.  
He could stop.  
But he never will because it's the only bit of control he can get over his damn life.  
Because it's the only way to cope.

"Morning Kissass."  
"Fatass."  
It's not an 'I love you.'  
Not even close.  
But it's as close as they'll get.  
But could he change it?  
No, hell no.  
Lying to yourself is okay.  
It makes you normal.

"Simmons! Get over here!"  
He knows that he did it perfectly, but when does that ever matter to Sarge?  
No, never.

"Sorry Sir, I'll do it again, Sir."  
He could change it, he knew.  
He could argue.  
But could he really?  
Hell no.  
Because that takes more courage than he has ever had, standing up for himself would only make things worse- it would break the cycle.

But if there's one damn thing he could change in this forsaken world it was himself.  
Those words repeated in his head as he poured more of the pills into his shaking hand.  
Everything is the same.  
Every damn day.  
He can change that.  
He knows he can.  
Because there won't be any more of the same days.  
And they can all be damn happy now.  
Without him.


	2. This New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter- literally and figuratively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wouldn't have happened without you, OneWeekColdCat <3

"Hey, Simmons, the hell are you doing?" 

Grif's unwelcome voice cut through the low hum of Red Base's lights- thoroughly startling Simmons, who jumped backward.

"Nothing! I'm, uh..." He shakily poured the pills in his hand back into the bottle- dropping several in the process. 

"Just- um-" he cleared his throat. "Taking my pain medication! This damn robot hand."

Grif leaned against the doorframe, content to watch as Simmons scrambled to pick up the fallen pills.

"You missed one." He pointed out, lazily pointing at a white pill on the floor.

Simmons rolled his eyes, picking up the last of the pills and putting it back into the bottle. He poured two out into his hand and swallowed them.  
Every day.  
Every day he took his meds for the searing pain in his left side- dulling it down to a strong ache.  
Every day he had another stupid conversation with Grif, always different but always meaningless.

"Yeah, real helpful, Fatass." 

"I know I am, Kissass." Grif shot back.

"Why are you in my quarters anyway?" Simmons questioned, screwing the cap back onto his pill bottle and setting it down.

"Oh yeah..." Grif trailed off, scratching his chin.

"'Oh yeah' what?" Simmons asked, rolling his eyes.

"That's just it. Don't remember- must have not been important." Grif shrugged.

Simmons looked Grif up and down with a scrutinizing gaze.

"Sarge needs me, doesn't he?"

"Maybe." Grif said with a grin.

Sighing through gritted teeth Simmons put on his armour- ignoring the way it chafed the cuts on his thighs. 

 

***

Grif paced the roof of Red Base, chewing his lip.  
He knew exactly what Simmons had been doing- but why? He knew that being stuck in this damn canyon fucking sucked- but regardless Simmons didn't seem like the type to try something like that.  
Of course, neither did Kai. He didn't know what the hell coursed through either of their heads.

"What the hell can I do?" Grif muttered to himself, taking of his helmet and tossed it to the side.

He slumped down- sitting down on the hot metal roof of the base, his face sullen. Honestly he just wanted to eat some thing when-

"Hey, Grif!" A familiar, high pitched voice shouted from across the roof.

Donut sat himself down beside Grif, scooting closer than probably necessary.

"You don't look so good- what's wrong?" Donut inquired, taking off his own helmet.

"Nothing's wrong, why would you say that anything is wrong?" Grif snapped, not really asking the question.

"Well you see..." Donut began, running his fingers through his hair. "For one: you were pacing! Which not only is a sign of distress, but also means that you were moving! And that's not something you usually do- when you can help it that is. Two: you're chewing on your lip- not food, which means also means you are really stressed out. And third and finally: you asked what you can do! And If I know you at all the one thing I know is that you never want to do anything-"

"Except for eat?" Grif cut him off, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah... I was going to say 'except Simmons and eat food' but that works too." Donut explained.

Grif choked on the implications.

"But anyways- what's wrong? You didn't forget to take your meds, did you?" Donut asked, leaning in close.

"No, I-" Grif started.

"Ohhhh, is it Simmons?" Donut giggled, grinning from ear to ear.

"No! It's not-" Grif sighed, unable to convincingly lie to Donut. "Yeah, it's Simmons- but not like that."

"What on earth do you mean? Wait! Is Simmons alright?" 

"How the hell am I supposed to know! He's never fucking honest anyone and-" He sighed. "I have no fucking clue what goes on with him or why he does anything, really." Grif ranted, shoulders slumping.

"I just. I'm just kinda worried about him." Grif added, glancing over to where his helmet had rolled.

Donut paused for a moment, placing a finger on his lip and staring upwards in thought.

"I have just the idea!" Donut chimed, a grin breaking out on his face.

"To do what?" Grif asked.

"To get Simmons to talk, of course!" Donut exclaimed. "You just wait- I'll have him going off so much you'll have trouble shutting him up!" 

Grif sighed, spirits only slightly raised by Donut's enthusiasm. If only it do something.

***

"What'd you MEAN you haven't watched Quigley: Down Under!" Donut exclaimed. "Sarge we HAVE to have a movie night!" 

"Is that another one of your 'Rom Com's'? Or is that some kinda fancy porn?" Sarge asked.

"It's one of those 'Old West' movies with everyone riding around and shooting each other!" Donut explained, doing little finger guns before grabbing Sarge by the arm. "Come on! I'll even make the popcorn!"

"Yup. Definitely fancy porn." Sarge declared, attempting to free his bicep for Donut's grasp.

"Please!" Donut pleaded, looking up to give Sarge the puppy dog eyes.

"Alright, alright. Movie night." Sarge grumbled, allowing himself to be dragged away by Donut. 

***

Simmons and Grif sat around the table, chewing their food in silence. The MRE's weren't really good enough to pretend to focus so hard on them- yet here they were, staring intently at their food. He couldn't believe that Donut's master plan was just to get himself and Simmons alone in a room together- but who knew with Donut, anyway.

The silence was thick and heavy in the air. Grif swallowed audibly, setting down his spoon with a clatter.

"So, uhh..." He started.

"So what?" Simmons glanced over, setting down his fork.

"Is, uh, is that any good?" Grif gestured at Simmons's MRE.

"Yeah, but it's vegan. You wouldn't like it." Simmons scoffed.

"Why, uh wouldn't I like it?" Grif pressed.

"Because it's healthy- aren't you allergic to healthy things or something?" Simmons said.

"You cut me deep, Simmons." Grif said sarcastically, plunging his spoon back into his bag of chili. 

"But seriously, I wanted to ask you something." Grif stated.

Thousands of questions coursed through Simmons's mind, none of them good. What the hell would Grif want to ask him- was it about earlier? Damn, he should have just swallowed those pills and avoided this. He wrung his hands under the table.

"What is it?" Simmons tried to keep his voice level despite the lump in his throat.

"I, just... You okay?" Grif asked, trying to make eye contact.

Simmons stared at Grif in shock for a moment- eyes wide and confused. Wiping that expression off his face he turned back to his beans- taking a large bite.

"I don't know what you mean- why wouldn't I be alright?" Simmons lied once he swallowed his food, eyes still downcast.

"I don't know! Maybe because-" Grif stopped himself, taking a deep breath. "I'm just a little bit worried about you, okay?" 

"Since when do you worry about anything?" Simmons asked, brows furrowed.

"I don't know, but I mean- things aren't great here, and I- I know how hard it gets sometimes. Just wanted to let you know that I'll listen to you if you... want to talk about it." Grif fiddled with his spoon as he spoke, only glancing up to meet Simmons's eyes once or twice.

Simmons turned his head away, biting his lip. He prayed that he could keep the tears out of his eyes.

"Thanks." He said, voice wavering only slightly.

Grif smiled a little bit, and it didn't meet his eyes but it was okay. He opened his arms for a hug and, hesitantly, he accepted.  
Simmons tried not to focus on how his heart pounded in his chest, only on Grif's warm arms around him.  
It would be okay.  
Things would suck, they always did. But it would be okay.

***

Cut forward a few months and everything continues.  
The same cycle every day.

Simmons wakes up to Grif, his boyfriend, and slips quietly out of bed as to not wake him.  
Even if he was loud Grif wouldn't wake up- but that didn't matter.  
Every morning he takes his pills, he puts on his armour, and he keeps going. It doesn't chafe the cuts on his thighs anymore- those have been covered and bandaged.  
The pain is still there- but he isn't alone anymore.  
It's not like magically all of his problems are gone.  
But now he knows that every day he will wake up to someone who listens, and cares, and loves him.

Every damn day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at Supertinydom! Or even my art blog at Supertinyart!  
> Comments are love <3


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